


A Place For Us

by foxfireflamequeen



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bridge to Terabithia - Freeform, Gen, M/M, still not sure how much of the ship will show up in the story considering they're ten years old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-29 16:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxfireflamequeen/pseuds/foxfireflamequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a shuffle in front of the room, the sound of the door opening and closing, but it’s not until he hears a new voice that Haruka looks up.</p><p>“We have a new student in our class!” Amakata-sensei claps to get their attention, even though everyone’s already looking at the—boy? Haruka thinks it’s a boy—bouncing on his toes next to her desk, and Haruka has honestly never seen a kid this comfortable standing in front of a full classroom on their first day. “Would you like to introduce yourself, Rin?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Free! - Bridge to Terabithia crossover AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/29238) by sexuallyfrustratedshark. 



Haruka races along the road to school; he’s halfway there when the sun starts peeking over the horizon, reminding him to turn back, go home and shower or the teacher will send him home for showing up to first period so stinky the girls shrieked and complained, and then his grandmother will have a fit and ground him for the rest of the week. Haruka doesn’t mind being grounded, except being grounded means he can’t run.

Sometimes Haruka feels like he lives to run. He’s fairly certain he can’t survive without it, and he’s not sure how he got through the first few years of his life before he learned to sprint, but no one else seems to agree, and it’s more than likely that telling Grandma this particular fact will double his punishment. His steps fall light on the soft ground as he speeds up, refraining from going too far off the road. The land gets more uneven further down, and Haruka likes running, not jumping.

The sky is much brighter when he tears through the front door and into the shower, and Grandma isn’t even awake yet. She insists that he take the bus to and from school, not only because his teachers keep complaining about the stench following a good run, but also because she’s worried about sending him off on his own. His school’s pretty far away.

Haruka doesn’t tell her he’s used to taking care of himself. The one time he did, she looked really hurt. Grandma has a way of making him feel bad for implying—however unintentionally—that she isn’t doing a good enough job of taking care of him.

It’s annoying. So he does his best to listen to her.

The shower only takes five minutes—in and out—and then Haruka’s opening the fridge to look for yesterday’s mackerel. The fish isn’t always available around here, but it’s his favorite, so he buys tons of it whenever Grandma sends him to the weekly farmer’s market a few miles down from their house. They always have some in the freezer, and Grandma cooked it his favorite way last night.

“Haruka.” He stops with both hands around the bowl of mackerel, and with a regretful sigh releases it. Grandma closes the refrigerator door as he steps away. “What have I told you about mackerel for breakfast?”

Haruka averts his eyes. Grandma’s brows remain crinkled, but her mouth is soft with amusement. If he has mackerel for breakfast he can’t have it the rest of the day, and she’s well aware of how much he likes it for dinner.

“Did you bring in the eggs?” she asks, dismissing the matter entirely.

“Last night,” Haruka inclines his head towards the full carton hidden behind the bowl of mackerel and moves to pop bread into the toaster. Grandma stopped protesting the non-traditional breakfast several years ago; despite all her efforts, her son and daughter-in-law remain as unconventional as they always were, and while her cooking has made her grandson very fond of traditional food, even she has to admit that eggs and toast make for a simpler morning than miso soup and natto.

Breakfast is quiet. Grandma doesn’t try to make conversation and Haruka stares at the wall and wills the bus to arrive faster. The sooner he gets to school, the sooner it’ll be lunchtime.

The boys hold races during lunch break.

It’s easily the best part of Haruka’s day.

They hear the bus before they see it, and Haruka barely stops to return Grandma’s goodbye before shooting out of the house, arriving at the stop just as the driver slides the door open. The man stopped wishing him good morning when it became apparent that Haruka was never going to do more than glance in his general direction in return, so now he just gets a nod, which is fine. Unnecessary pleasantries are too much of a bother anyway.

Haruka slides into the seat beside Makoto, who only smiles at him in greeting. Comfortable silences are a much-appreciated thing in Haruka’s life.

“Hey, Haru-chan,” Makoto says as the bus starts moving. Haruka doesn’t groan, because Makoto must have something important to say if he’s talking to him before they’ve even reached school. He nearly groans at the ‘chan’, though. It’s tiresome to remind Makoto to not say it every day. Especially since he’s pretty sure by now that the other boy does it on purpose. “There’s a car in front of the old Perkins place.”

Haruka grunts in reply.

“Did someone move in again?” Makoto cranes his neck to make out the house through the shrubbery surrounding it. “You think they have kids?”

“Don’t know,” Haruka leans his head against the back of the seat and looks out the window. “Haven’t seen anyone.”

“Think they’ll go to Iwatobi?” Makoto settles against the cool glass, preparing for a nap. Haruka shrugs. Iwatobi’s the only public school nearby; Samezuka’s further away _and_ private. “Probably, huh? If they’re living in the Perkins place I doubt they can afford Samezuka.”

Makoto’s right. People only move to the Perkins place when they’re in between jobs or had a bad turn of luck. Haruka’s never seen anyone stay in the shabby house for more than six months, and he’s lived here his whole life.

“I wonder if there’s anyone our age. Maybe a girl. Our class has too many boys.”

 _That_ makes Haruka smile, and Makoto perks up at the sight of it.

“Maybe she’ll be pretty,” he teases, even though neither of them even bothers talking to the girls. Makoto tells him they’re weird. Haruka honestly doesn’t care. “Like that new teacher we have. Ama-chan.”

Is Amakata-sensei pretty? If Haruka paid more attention in class, he’d probably know.

The open, even fields rush past the window.

Haruka just wants to run.

* * *

All of Amakata-sensei’s attempts to make English more interesting fall flat. Or at least they do for Haruka. Makoto listens to her explain the concept behind Narnia with near-cross-eyed concentration, and this other kid, Rei, always has his hand up when she wants someone from class to read a few pages out loud. Haruka spends most of the class drawing.

Sketching out a long dolphin tail instead of legs, he debates for a moment before adding a dorsal fin. The merman’s expression is a little flat, though. He was supposed to be angry, not look like he’s bored with the world. He looks more like Haruka, even though he’s clearly older. Drawing people is as much of a pain as being around them. Haruka can never get the faces right.

His soft sigh makes Makoto look over for a moment, and out of the corner of his eyes Haruka sees him smile to himself before returning his attention to where Amakata-sensei has veered off topic and is spouting some odd Shakespearian quote. He starts adding seaweed and a catfish.

There’s a shuffle in front of the room, the sound of the door opening and closing, but it’s not until he hears a new voice that Haruka looks up.

“We have a new student in our class!” Amakata-sensei claps to get their attention, even though everyone’s already looking at the—boy? Haruka _thinks_ it’s a boy—bouncing on his toes next to her desk, and Haruka has honestly never seen a kid this comfortable standing in front of a full classroom on their first day. “Would you like to introduce yourself, Rin?”

 _Rin?_ That’s a girl’s name, right?

“Sure!” ‘Rin’ beams at her—definitely a boy—and turns his attention to them. “Hello everyone! My name is Rin Matsuoka.” Amakata-sensei turns to write it out on the blackboard in large, block letters, first in Japanese and then in English. Rin glances back at it. “I have a girly name, but I’m a boy.” In case anyone was still confused. At ten years old, there’s a lot of this confusion going around. “Looking forward to being in this class!”

And he smiles so bright it makes Haruka’s eyes hurt.

Amakata-sensei titters, clearly charmed by Rin’s enthusiasm, and frankly, even Haruka’s a bit impressed. Everyone else seems to be caught between awestruck and thoroughly weirded out. Who sounds so genuinely _happy_ about coming to a new school?

The boy’s strange-colored eyes match his too-long hair, and Haruka doesn’t have a single crayon in his expansive collection that matches either. Maybe if he mixed purple and pink… or violet and red. It would need some experimenting. It’s a pity he doesn’t dare bring his crayons to school anymore.

There’s a bit of a fuss over Rin’s seating arrangement, since all the benches are already seating two to three students, and while Amakata-sensei doesn’t want to crowd the boy into a two-seat bench, she also doesn’t want to send him to the back of the classroom, where Sousuke Aizen guards his three-seat bench with malicious smiles and a mastery of passive-aggressive threats.

“Oh… I suppose you should sit with Souseke,” Amakata-sensei sighs. Haruka can practically _hear_ the pitying looks the rest of the class is throwing Rin, he _definitely_ hears Sousuke’s snarl, and even Rin’s bright smile dampens into a faint look of alarm. Their apprehension is fairly valid. The much larger boy will probably eat this new kid alive for encroaching on his territory.

Haruka settles on this fact and returns to his drawing, but Makoto’s hand shoots up before he can pick up his pencil again.

“Ama-chan!” Haruka glares at Makoto, but for once his best friend completely ignores him. “Rin can sit with us today, and tomorrow you can swap out one of the two-seaters for a three-seat bench!”

Haruka watches Rin tilt his head curiously in their direction as Amakata-sensei hastily agrees and sends the boy their way. Makoto scoots closer to him to make space, and Haruka reluctantly gathers his things closer. Rin slides in beside Makoto and turns his thousand-watt smile on them both.

“Thanks,” he says softly as Amakata-sensei goes back to reading out loud, and Haruka can no longer think about how annoying the situation is because Rin smells of _—_ “I wasn’t sure I’d make it past this period alive. Sousuke over there didn’t seem very happy about having to share.”

 _Sweat_.

Rin smells like wind and a long run, and he wasn’t on the bus to school, so his parents either drove him to school—

Or he _ran_.

How is it fair that no one scolded _him_ for running?

Makoto grins back; Haruka feels faintly betrayed. “Hey, I wasn’t going to send you off into the shark’s mouth without doing anything about it. I’m Makoto, by the way, and this is Haru-chan—”

“Haru _ka_ ,” Haruka interrupts, because it’s bad enough that _one_ person refers to him by that atrocious nickname. Makoto scrunches his eyebrows at him with his best _don’t be rude_ look, but Rin only snickers.

“Nice to meet you, Mako-chan.” And that’s not very polite. He shouldn’t be addressing Makoto like that that when they haven’t known each other for two minutes. Makoto doesn’t seem to find it offensive, though, and even nudges Haruka with his foot when Rin’s eyes turn to him. There’s no way Haruka is imagining the amusement in those odd-colored eyes. “You too, Haru- _ka_.”

The new, super-friendly kid is already making fun of him. Great.

Haruka promptly stores him in the back of his mind alongside all other troublesome, petty matters—such as showers and the boys who steal his crayons—turning the page of his notebook and pretending he can’t hear Makoto reassure a confused Rin that it’s not that Haruka doesn’t like him, he’s just not a big talker.

Meanwhile, Haruka focuses on sketching out a boy with too-long hair being eaten by a shark and doesn’t ask if Rin really ran all the way to school.

* * *

_Tap-tap-tap_.

_Tap-tap-tap._

_Tap-tap-tap._

Makoto is used to this by now, but he still twitches as Haruka rhythmically taps his pencil against the wood, knee jerking impatiently under the desk and eyes glued to the clock above the blackboard. He can see Rin watching him out of the corner of his eyes, but the kid’s been staring at him like he’s the most entertaining attraction of a circus since Haruka corrected his name, so it’s not really a big deal anymore.

The minute hand inches closer to the twelve. Haruka’s tapping intensifies.

When the lunch bell _finally_ rings, he’s out of the room before the teacher can finish saying ‘dismissed’.

He’s down by the tracks before everyone else, but that just gives him an extra few minutes to run a lap as the other elementary school boys—and the two girls—gather at the edge and warm up for their run. The tracks are for the Iwatobi Middle and High School track and field teams, but the elementary division has an earlier lunch, so they can use the empty tracks to race.

“Haru-chan!” he hears Makoto call, and when he turns around he finds Rin first, bright hair standing out in a sea of drab browns and blacks, but Rin’s eyes are nowhere near Haruka.

He’s looking at the tracks the same way Makoto looks at candy, and Haruka suddenly wants him to go away because Rin has no more right to look at the open field like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen than he does to call Makoto ‘Mako-chan’.

“Can I race too?” Rin breathes once he realizes what they’re setting up for. Makoto opens his mouth to reply, but Haruka beats him to it.

“If you can keep up.” Something very close to a challenge blooms through the surprise in Rin’s eyes as they swerve to meet his, but Haruka isn’t particularly interested in taking a better look. “We race 100 meter sprints.”

“You’ll be running against the sixth years if you do,” Makoto warns. There are three races; first and second years run together, and they don’t really count because they’re too small to actually race a full 100 meters. The third and fourth years are more competitive, but it’s the sixth years who are the biggest and meanest. A lot of kids stop racing in their fifth year because the older kids won’t hesitate to knock them off their feet, and no one likes going home with skinned knees and ripped school pants. Besides. “They’re a lot faster than us.”

Longer legs give them a significantly large advantage.

“I’m fast too!” Rin protests, lips turning up in a pout. “Aren’t you racing, Mako-chan?”

“Oh, no,” Makoto shakes his head, because he doesn’t like these races very much. Sometimes he’ll run with Haruka to keep him company, but his body is built more for field sports than for track, and he was far more interested in hurdles than he has ever been in sprinting. Haruka wasn’t at all disappointed when hurdling was canceled last year due to one of the third graders breaking his leg trying to cross an obstacle taller than him, but Makoto stopped regularly participating in lunchtime sports soon after.

When Makoto runs, it’s usually because he’s late for something.

“I don’t think I’ll race today,” he says, giving Rin an apologetic smile.

Rin doesn’t miss a beat.

“What about you, Haru?” Before Haruka can protest the _new_ nickname, he goes on. “You’re racing, right?”

“I…” Haruka blinks at Makoto, who shrugs. He turns back to Rin. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll race too!” Rin declares, stalking over to where the third and fourth years have just begun their race and taking his place next to the fifth years. Makoto and Haruka follow, in silent agreement that if nothing else, they at least tried.

It’s not until Rin makes to line up with the oldest kids that they seem to realize there’s a newbie in their midst.

“You sure you can keep up with us, little girl?” It’s Sousuke who circles behind Rin and pulls his hair first, but he’s caught the attention of the rest of the sixth-graders. Rin takes a small step back as the largest ones close in on him. He looks like he’s going to bolt. Haruka won’t blame him if he does.

“Eh, he’ll probably cry when he _loses_.” Janice Avery may be a girl, but she towers over Rin, who holds his ground. It would be impressive if he were a few inches taller and Janice didn’t outweigh him by about five hundred pounds.

(It’s probably closer to fifty, but it could be five hundred for all the difference it’ll make.)

“Who dyed your hair pink? Were you playing dress-up with the girls?” she taunts, and all Haruka can think is, _It’s not **pink**_.

He still doesn’t know _what_ that color is, but it’s _not_ pink.

“I was born with it,” Rin huffs, and there’s something in the way he straightens his spine even as his hand rises self-consciously to his hair that makes Haruka wonder if he’s been through this before.

The rest of the students are abandoning their lunches to gather and watch the show, and the possibility that they won’t have a race today after all is getting higher and higher, because if the Janice and Sousuke beat Rin up someone’s going to run and get Mrs. Myers, and then they’ll all be sent inside.

“Look, kid,” Sousuke shares a gleeful look with another sixth grader. “We don’t let _girly_ boys run with us.”

Rin makes the mistake of glancing at Janice at the mention of ‘girly boys’, and everyone prepares for a bloodbath.

Haruka has waited _all day_ for this race.

“Just let him run.”

Judging by Rin’s flabbergasted expression, he hadn’t expected _Haruka_ of all people to come to his defense, and the stunned silence from the rest of the elementary division suggests no one else had, either. Haruka’s always been one of the quietest kids in school. Sousuke stopped trying to get a rise out of him all the way back in second grade.

Haruka knows he’s going to regret this, but he _really_ wants to move on with it already. The only reason he even participates in these races is because they occupy the track during lunch, and he can’t just run on his own.

“Or are you scared of a _girly_ _boy_ beating you?”

 _That_ might have been crossing a line. Janice and Sousuke both glare at him with a fierceness that would put Mrs. Myers to shame, and Rin’s lips twitch dangerously. If he starts laughing they’re both dead.

“Can we just get on with it?” It takes Haruka a moment to recognize the tall redhead pushing past him. _Mikoshiba?_ Something Mikoshiba. The guy every girl from fourth to sixth grade is tripping over her own feet for, and even the boys aren’t immune to his charms. Hands on hips, he stares down Janice and Sousuke with the kind of intensity Makoto uses to discipline his younger siblings. “Kid’s right. Unless you’re _really_ worried you’re going to lose to him, let him run. _I_ actually want to _eat_ when we’re done here.”

There’s no way anyone’s going to argue with Mikoshiba, built like a track champion and the fastest boy in sixth grade. When he clasps Rin’s shoulder to guide him away from them, Haruka can practically see stars in the younger boy’s eyes.

“Thanks,” Rin tells him quietly. Mikoshiba accepts the gratitude with a gracious nod, and Rin tilts his head at Haruka as they crouch behind the starting line. “You too.”

Haruka doesn’t acknowledge him, but he does catch a glimpse of Rin’s smile returning as they hold their breaths for the countdown. There’s no time to think anymore, because the race is about to begin and he can finally _run_.

Nitori is a third grader and his voice squeaks as he tries to raise it over the chatter of the crowd, but Haruka hears the _“Three!”_ perfectly.

He feels the wind slap his face before his toes leave the ground, feels his chin tuck in automatically as his body leans forward into a straight line, gaining speed with every stroke of his arms slicing through the air.

His feet barely touch the track.

It’s almost like flying, and maybe if he runs fast enough he _can_ fly. The possibility hangs just beyond his fingertips, teases him with weightlessness and the surge of wind in his ears, plays a game of tag where Haruka’s always It.

His eyes transition from the track to the end of the lane without conscious thought, tunnel vision setting in as his hips tuck under. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers that he’s past the 30 meter mark, 40 meters, 45… he vaguely remembers there were others running alongside him, but he doesn’t know where they are anymore, only cares that he can’t sense them in the shift of the breeze because it means they’re not close they’re not important they’re not after what he is and—

It’s just him and the wind and the rush of the chase.

As he enters 50 meters, Haruka notices others slowly edging into his airspace. This is the point where the remaining participants start catching up, where everyone takes half a breath to check their positions in the race at maximum speed. He doesn’t bother with that; winning means nothing to him, and he hasn’t lost a race within his age bracket in, well, ever. The boys let him run, but they stopped giving him first place a long time ago. Whoever comes in second—it’s almost always between Janice and Mikoshiba—gets the honor. Haruka doesn’t mind; he doesn’t run for first place.

It’s around 70 meters that he feels it.

Someone else reaching for his prize. Someone else chasing down what he’s after, gaining ground faster than he would have thought possible in the final leg, and Haruka is startled enough to catch a flash of color at the edge of his vision before his focus returns, except he’s no longer alone in the wind.

Then the race is over, the white noise is gone, and Haruka.

“That was _awesome!_ ” Rin crows, throwing himself into a cartwheel. “I can’t believe I won! You guys are _so_ much faster than the kids in my last school! That felt like a _real_ race!”

Haruka didn’t win.

The stunned silence continues, and Rin straightens as he realizes that all eyes are on him. Ignoring them in favor of jogging towards Haruka—and how does he still have so much energy?—he holds out his right hand.

“You’re even better than I’d heard,” he says, eyes shining with excitement. “You weren’t even trying! I bet you could beat me _easy_ if you actually tried!”

And that.

All Haruka can do is blink at Rin, because while everyone knows he doesn’t _care_ about winning, he’s never even told _Makoto_ that he doesn’t _try_ to win.

Haruka runs, and winning just… happens.

Or at least it did till now.

“Um.” Rin clearly doesn’t know what to do about the fact that Haruka won’t shake his hand. Maybe he thinks Haruka’s upset about losing. His breath comes out in hard puffs, and he finally raises his extended arm to wipe the sweat from his brow, smile dimming. “Good race, Haru.”

 _Haru- **ka**_ , Haruka doesn’t say, offering a nod before he turns away, starting the trek back to where the rest of the students are dispersing and Makoto is still staring at Rin with wide eyes. He’s not sure anyone even noticed who came in third.

“Rin’s really good, isn’t he?” Makoto asks softly as Haruka falls into step beside him.

Behind them, they hear a tiny voice shriek, “You did it! You won!” and Haruka glances back just in time to see a little girl with hair the same strange color as Rin’s throw herself into the boy’s arms. Rin spins her around with practiced ease, their laughter ringing across the field.

“Guess he has a sister,” Makoto mutters. “Cheer up, Haru-chan. You’ll win tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about winning,” Haruka says, and Makoto looks at him with the kind of patience Buddha would be proud of. “I’m not upset that I lost, Makoto.”

Because he isn’t.

“Why are you upset, then?” Makoto prods gently, and this time he doesn’t answer. Makoto shakes his head after a moment, content with the amount Haruka has admitted; it’s more than what he would’ve said any other day.

He’s not even upset, not really. There’s just a weird feeling in his chest. It might be the fact that he’s never lost before, but Haruka’s pretty sure that’s not it.

The five meters they ran neck in neck, sharing the track and wind, Haruka hadn’t felt Rin straining for the finish line.

Haruka doesn’t care about winning races, but he does care that he’s no longer the only It in the game.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the comments and kudos! This is a brand new style I developed specifically for this fic to try and capture Haru's ten year-old voice, so it's still very unfamiliar to me and I'm a little jittery about it. Writing a multi-chaptered story in general is completely new for me, so I really appreciate your encouragement and feedback.

Makoto usually takes the window seat in the morning because Haruka’s house is one of the finals stops, but Haruka slides in first when they’re heading home because Makoto gets off before he does. Pulling out his drawing pad and a pencil, Haruka debates coloring in the shark and boy as Makoto wearily lectures his siblings to sit _still_ when the bus is moving, for _once_.

He has just settled on starting another picture—because he really doesn’t know what color he’d use for the boy’s hair and doesn’t want to work with the five crayons he smuggles to class everyday—when a familiar voice sounds at the front of the bus, and Haruka strains to look over the seats because this is the first time he’s heard Rin since he walked away from him at the end of their race, and Rin doesn’t seem like someone who can keep quiet for very long.

“You can make it to the house on your own,” Rin grouches, letting the little girl from before tug him up the steps despite his loud protests. “You did fine this morning.”

“It’s not going to kill you to keep me company for an hour. Please?” The girl’s hair is as long as Ran’s, her eyes as big and bright as Rin’s. “I haven’t made any friends yet and I don’t want to sit alone.”

Battle won. Rin shuts up and makes to sit down in front of Haruka and Makoto, but she throws her arms around his waist. Rin makes a strangled sound that curiously reminds Haruka of a disgruntled cat.

“No, _I_ want the window seat!” his sister pleads, and while Rin grumbles some more, it’s obvious that she has him wrapped around her tiny pinky, because once again she gets her way without much of a fight. Rin awkwardly glances towards Haruka and Makoto as he waits for her to shuffle in.

“Hey guys.” Haruka jerks his eyes away before he can be caught staring. “This brat here’s my sister. Say hi, Gou.”

Gou’s bashful face pops up from behind the seat. “Hi!” She glares at Rin. “I’m _Kou_ Matsuoka! I’m in third grade!”

“Sorry,” Rin’s apology is completely insincere. “She likes to be called ‘Kou’.”

Haruka acknowledges her with a nod, but Makoto smiles cheerfully. “Hello! I’m Makoto, and this is Haru—” Haruka gives him his driest look. “Ka.”

Rin snickers. Haruka ignores him.

“Out of my way, Twinkletoes.” Janice could easily have squeezed past Rin, built long and thin like a twig, but of course she doesn’t, and Rin only just manages to catch himself as he’s unceremoniously shoved into his seat and nearly onto Gou.

“Hey!” Gou’s indignant cry is lost in the laughter of the sixth graders as they make their way to the back of the bus, but Rin is already tugging on her ponytail to distract her.

“It okay,” he gives her a sunny smile, and it seems to affect her the same way it does the rest of the world. “I’m okay, see? Janice is just mad I beat her in the race. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’ll be better tomorrow.”

That’s a blatant lie, but Gou is calmed. She still glances back over the rows of seats as the bus rumbles off, like she can’t for the life of her figure out why anyone would treat her brother this way.

Haruka can’t help but agree. It takes a special kind of nastiness to be mean to someone like Rin, he thinks.

“Kou.” Haruka doesn’t know if it’s Gou’s hurt look or Rin’s embarrassed flush that makes him speak up, but both the Matsuokas turn around to listen. “Did you say you’re in third grade?”

Gou tears her eyes away from Janice. “Yes?”

“Have you met Ran and Ren?”

He practically feels Makoto’s confusion turn to understanding, and he picks up seamlessly when Haruka doesn’t elaborate.

“They’re my brother and sister! They’re in third grade too, but you can’t meet everyone in a day.” Makoto leans into the aisle. “Ren! Ran!”

The twins were chattering amongst themselves in the seat opposite Rin and Gou, oblivious to everything else, and Haruka misses the simple times—yesterday—when he could do the same. They hear Makoto, though, and hoist themselves up to look at their brother.

“Kou-chan is new to Iwatobi,” Makoto informs them cheerfully. “You should tell her everything she’ll need to know to go to this school. You know,” he lowers his voice. “Just warn her about the haunted stall in the second floor girls’ bathroom.”

“Haunted?” Gou’s eyes are as large as saucers.

“Oh, yeah!” Ran’s pigtails smack Ren in the face when she whips around to face Gou. “It’s the third stall from the door. Don’t go in there.”

“No one who goes in there ever comes out,” Ren whispers, which doesn’t seem to be very accurate because if that were true the school would shut down, but Makoto believes it as much as his siblings do, so Haruka keeps quiet. Rin’s face is strangely shuttered; Haruka can’t make out if he’s buying this or not.

Ran pushes her brother. “You don’t know that; you’ve never even been to the girls’ bathroom.”

“That’s because it’s the girls’ bathroom!” Ren sticks out his tongue, and by this time Gou is scrambling over Rin’s lap to get closer to the conversation, window seat forgotten.

“ _Ow!_ ” Rin grunts as she accidentally elbows him in the gut, grabbing her under the armpits and hauling her up. He shifts over to the other side and puts her down next to the Tachibana twins.

Gou promptly dangles her legs into the aisle, throws him a hasty apology, and asks, “So is there a story or what?”

“ _Yeah_ there’s a story!” Ran crows, and then the three of them are lost in a ghost tale that Makoto, for one, does _not_ want to hear. Haruka blames the twins’ belief in the ridiculous bathroom ghost on him. If only their precious older brother would tell them that ghosts aren’t real instead of insisting on walking on the opposite side of the hallway when passing the girls’ bathroom on the second floor.

“That’s the second time you’ve helped me out today.” Haruka’s pencil stills over his outline of a giraffe with two legs and wings. He subconsciously pulls his drawing pad closer, hiding it from Rin as he continues, voice low enough that Gou can’t hear him over the twins’ clamor. “I owe you.”

And usually Haruka would just nod, but he finds it necessary to shrug and reply, “You don’t owe me anything.”

The amusement is back in the corners of Rin’s lips. “Yeah, I do,” he says, and winks at Makoto before turning back around to stare out the window.

Haruka burrows into the comforting scratch of pencil against paper to prevent himself from doing the same.

Half an hour into the journey, the younger children—and Makoto—are tuckered out. Ran and Ren fall asleep on each other, Gou dozes against her brother’s side, and Makoto’s head lolls until it drops from the backrest onto Haruka’s shoulder.

Rin’s head turns as though he _heard_ Haruka’s disgruntled frown. He grins toothily when he realizes Haruka’s actually lookingback, then glances between Makoto and Gou as though Haruka’s _supposed_ to understand whatever it is that he’s trying to convey.

It takes Rin a moment to realize Haruka’s not getting it. “Yours,” he tilts his head at Makoto. “Mine.” His hand rises almost automatically to hold Gou’s head in place as the bus jerks over a few potholes in the road.

That doesn’t make any more sense to Haruka.

“Yours, mine, what,” he deadpans. The other boy’s body shakes with silent laughter.

“Never mind.” Rin’s eyes leave his as he rests his head on top of Gou’s, presumably giving into sleep as well. Haruka blinks at him for a few extra seconds, secure in the knowledge that no one’s watching, then rolls his eyes and resumes patterning the giraffe’s hide.

The kid’s just plain _weird_.

* * *

Gou is still asleep when the bus rumbles to a stop in front of their houses, and Rin doesn’t try to wake her. She clings to his neck as he carefully carries her down the steps and whispers a hushed goodbye to Haruka before disappearing through the bushes towards the Perkins place.

Or maybe it’s the Matsuoka place now. Depends on how long they’ll stay, Haruka supposes. He breaks into a sprint just because he can, and he thinks he sees Rin stop to watch him, but by the time he’s reached the front door and turned around to make sure, there’s no one there.

“I’m home,” he calls to Grandma, slipping off his shoes and going to look for her. She likes seeing him in person when he comes back from school.

“Welcome home, Haruka.” Grandma is in the living room, the massive quilt she’s been elaborately embroidering for the past month spread around her. She cuts the thread with her teeth and arches white eyebrows at him. “How was school?”

“Fine,” Haruka replies, impatience beginning to crawl into his voice. His crayons call his name from upstairs.

“Did you win your race?” It’s an inane question, because the answer has been ‘yes’ for the past three years, but this time Haruka glares at the cherry blossoms stitched into the white folds of fabric.

“No.”

He hears the surprise in Grandma’s voice. “You didn’t run?”

“The new boy from the Perkins place beat me,” he replies dispassionately to stave off further questions, shifting from one foot to another. “Can I go?”

Grandma hesitates, and Haruka prepares to have to elaborate when she says, “Just a moment, dear.” But then he recognizes that tone, and it almost makes him wish she’d ask more about Rin instead. “Your mother called earlier.”

There’s a pause, and she’s looking at him expectantly, so he says, “Oh,” and hopes it counts as a response.

“Your mother and father are both well,” Grandma continues after a moment, as though Haruka actually cares. “They asked how you’re doing in school, and if you’re eating right.” She smiles.“I told them you’re as fond of mackerel as ever.”

“I see.” Haruka wants to go to his room and try to recreate the new color already. This is a tedious waste of time.

“They’re sorry they couldn’t speak to you.” And that’s kinda stupid because if they _wanted_ to talk to him they wouldn’t call when he’s supposed to be at school. It’s not like they don’t know his routine. “They’ll try again next time.”

They don’t talk about the fact that they’re both well aware there’s going to be a repeat performance of this in another two weeks. His parents never call to talk to _him_ ; they call to make sure everything’s in order and they don’t have to come home.

“Is that all?” Haruka asks, mind already wandering to the different combinations of pinks and purples and reds and oranges he wants to blend. Grandma barely manages to finish nodding before he’s gone.

When she comes in to check on him two hours later, he pretends to be asleep among his sketchpad and colors to avoid the conversation she tries to have with him every time his parents call. Haruka tries to keep his breathing even as she pulls the covers over his prone form and flips through his drawings.

When he wakes up, it’s dinnertime and he has to do homework.


	3. Chapter 3

Rin is holding a sleepy-eyed Gou’s hand when Haruka runs up to the bus the next morning. “Mom doesn’t think it’s a good idea to show up to my first class all stinky like she never makes me shower,” he replies to a question Haruka didn’t ask, ushering his sister up the steps and into their seat, letting her arrange him into her pillow as Makoto makes room for Haruka in front of them.

Their usual two-seat bench has been replaced by a three-seater, and along with it are gone all of Haruka’s doodles on the wood. It’s not like they were important or even good, but Haruka resents the loss for a solid five minutes during which Makoto wisely stays away, instead conversing with Rin about something or the other that Haruka is sulking at them both far too much to tune into. It’s more Makoto’s fault than Rin’s, but Haruka has never been fond of change and now here it is in the form of a weird kid who’s apparently going to sit with him for the rest of the year.

“Is that…?” Makoto trails off warily when he catches a glimpse of Haruka’s drawing pad and the sketch he has yet to color, then glances to his left to confirm the likeness between the boy next to him and the one between the shark’s teeth. Rin seems to really enjoy English, and not just because Amakata-sensei is pretty. His chin is cradled in his palm as he listens to her ramble about imagination and the entrance to a wonderland through regular closet doors, so intensely focused on the story that Haruka doubts he’d hear Makoto even if he didn’t whisper.

“Yes,” he says, opening to a fresh page. Makoto gives him a disappointed look, the one with the ability to make him feel chastised even when he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong, but he leaves it alone.

Haruka starts on a fresh page, then has to pause because he’d  _planned_  on drawing birds and clouds, but now he wants to draw a herd of elephants stomping on Rin. Maybe Makoto too, because he was a traitor and Haruka was  _not_  being childish, thank you very much.

He should be more abstract, he knows; the chances of someone finding his sketchbook unprotected and making the same connection Makoto has is quite high, but he can’t deny that he really doesn’t care.

In the end, he doesn’t actually get anything down on the page. Not in English and not in math, and by the time the lunch bell rings he’s resigned himself to getting back at Rin in a more… substantial manner.

During the race, for the first time in his life, Haruka focuses on winning. He does.

But if he expected Rin to be disappointed he’s really,  _really_  wrong because Rin throws an arm around his neck, hugs him to his side, and says, “I  _told_  you! Way to go, Haru!”

And that.

It’s not fair.

For the briefest of moments Haruka feels something coil in his chest, dark and ugly and  _foreign_  because it’s not  _fair_  that Rin is so  _happy_  about losing when Haruka was  _not_ , because Rin is chasing the same thing he is but he doesn’t seem to care about the ‘what if’ at all.

Then the arm disappears from his shoulders and the red from his vision, and Rin stands before him with eyes that scream confusion.

“It’s okay.” He’s careful. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he wants to make peace. “I’ll try harder tomorrow. I’ll try harder and get faster and beat you then!”

Haruka wants to shake him.

The ‘what if’ is  _important_.

Whether he’s running alone or against someone, Haruka has always been the only one in the wind, trying to catch the feeling that comes from running so fast that his feet no longer touch the ground.

But if there are two people then it’s a  _race_ , and races have  _winners_.

Doesn’t Rin  _want_  to win?

“I don’t understand,” Rin pleads, quiet and confused and upset for  _all the wrong reasons_.

Haruka walks away.

* * *

On the way back, Gou squeezes in with the Tachibana twins. All of them are tiny enough that they can comfortably fall asleep in the small space, but they’re too excited, chattering about… well, Haruka doesn’t exactly know. He hasn’t been paying a lot of attention.

Rin sits alone, and for some reason solitude doesn’t suit him as well as it does Haruka. Makoto sees it too; his mouth opens and closes several times, but there isn’t a whole lot he can do other than getting up and sitting beside Rin himself, except that would mean leaving Haruka’s side.

It’s clear that  _something_  happened between Haruka and Rin on the tracks, but it’s just as clear that he has yet to figure out what.

By the time Makoto has given up and settled down to nap, Haruka is halfway through lining a… he doesn’t remember the name, but he saw a picture of it in their English book, half goat and half man. He gives the thing wings, too, with lots of feathers, and a short stubby tail like a rabbit’s.

He’s drawing grooves into the horns when he feels eyes on him, and when he jerks the sketchpad shut it’s more out of instinct than because Rin is peering over the top of his seat, watching him draw with the same intense fascination with which he listened to Amakata-sensei talk about Narnia.

Rin looks startled. This is the first time Haruka has acknowledged his existence since lunch.

“Are you drawing a faun?” he asks hesitantly, and oh, okay, maybe that’s what it’s called. “I really like the wings. They’re pretty.”

Haruka stares at him; Rin shifts uncomfortably. He’s not smiling, and that looks as strange as him sitting all by himself in that big seat.

“Do you want gum?” is the next abrupt question. Haruka blinks, and Rin’s head disappears as though that was an answer. He pops back up a few seconds later, two sticks of gum in hand, holding one out to Haruka. “It’s pineapple-flavored!”

It’s not quite a peace offering. Haruka sees it in the downcast eyes and pressed lips, in the self-conscious way Rin tucks a strand of long hair behind his ear and doesn’t retrieve his hand even as the moments pass and Haruka doesn’t move.

It’s an  _apology_ , even though Rin has done nothing wrong and Haruka is the one blaming him for not understanding what he refuses to explain.

Haruka takes the gum.

“I like pineapple,” he says, and watches Rin’s face light up like a Christmas tree.

* * *

Fridays are always special in Iwatobi Elementary, and not just because it’s the end of the school week. Janice doesn’t trip Rin in the bus and Sousuke doesn’t trip anyone in class. Even Haruka is perkier—“He said more than three lines!” Rin excitedly points out to Makoto—looking away from his sketchbook in English long enough to figure out which chapter they’re on without Makoto’s subtle prodding.

He’s in such a good mood that when he crosses the 60 meter mark in the race he doesn’t think to keep up his speed, just throws himself into instinct and runs like he always has, because it’s at this point that no one can catch up to him anymore. He forgets about Rin’s long legs, forgets that the redhead has been coming in second to him every day since the first, and by the time he does remember, Rin is blowing past him in a blur of color and stepping over the finish line.

“You weren’t paying attention!” he accuses, and Haruka hears the  _‘to me’_  perfectly. Rin is  _spoilt_ , he decides.

“I don’t have to pay attention to you.”

Rin’s mouth is full of dumpling when he says, “Yes you do! Or I’ll win all the time!” and meat flies everywhere. Haruka and Makoto are appropriately grossed out, and while Makoto chastises him for his table manners—or lack thereof—Haruka steals a piece of mackerel off Rin’s plate.

Rin blames Makoto for the missing food. Makoto maintains that Rin ate it and forgot. Rin lunges at Makoto. Haruka chews the mackerel and wisely keeps quiet.

Really, he doesn’t even know when Rin started sitting with them for lunch. Makoto probably invited him. Serves them right.

He’s not at all sorry for the bruised jaw Rin carries back into the classroom or the bleeding wrist Makoto is nursing. Apparently Makoto isn’t above headbutting his opponent and Rin has a set of really sharp teeth. Who knew.

“Does it hurt too much?” Rin, on the other hand, is very, very sorry. Makoto has already washed off the blood in the bathroom sink and the teeth marks are more like pinpricks than anything visible, but Rin has yet to calm down despite the many reassurances than Makoto is perfectly alright. “Maybe you should go to the nurse!”

“Rin, it’s not even bleeding anymore,” Makoto shows him his wrist. Haruka is sympathetic of the tiny red blotches where he assumes the teeth sank in, but Rin blanches at the sight like he can see blood pouring down in rivers. Haruka’s about to say something that’s probably a bit insensitive, but there’s an  _‘I know what you did so be careful or I’ll tell him’_  in the glance Makoto offers him before turning back towards Rin, so he doesn’t. “It doesn’t hurt at all. I’m sorry about your chin.”

“Oh, that’s nothing!” Rin waves it off, even though his jaw is already turning purple and it’s obvious by his slowed speech that talking isn’t a very pleasant experience for him right now. “I’ll wear my battle scars with pride!”

Makoto’s expression hardens into determination. “Then so will I!”

Yeah, okay, he’s done associating with these two idiots for the day. Haruka pulls out his sketchpad just as the door opens and a cart rolls in, followed by a woman with large blue eyes set in a grinning face, her cropped top and dress pants more suited to a city university student than someone who works in a rural school.

“Good afternoon kids!” she calls, her greeting half-drowned by the cheers rising from the students. “Did you miss me?”

Everyone has missed Miss Edmunds. She prefers being called ‘Miss’ over ‘sensei’, but her Japanese is perfect and she’s been teaching at Iwatobi for longer than Haruka’s been going to school. Before Amakata-sensei, Miss Edmunds was the only one who never told him to put his sketchbook away for art class only, and when she asks to see what he’s drawing she always sounds genuinely interested.

“Is that our music teacher?” Rin is staring at Miss Edmunds with wide eyes. “Where’s she from?”

“France,” Makoto replies, smiling with the rest of the class as Miss Edmunds pulls the cart up in front of the teacher’s desk and removes the cloth covering it with a flourish. “Come on!” He pushes at Rin to get up as everyone clamors to the pile of instruments and picks their favorite.

It’s not like Haruka ever participates in the clamor, but he still has to pick an instrument, and as he grabs one of the leftover tambourines he hears Miss Edmunds greet Rin with, “Why hello there, here’s a handsome new face.”

When Rin finally makes his way back a good few minutes later, his cheeks are curiously flushed. He buries his head in his arms and refuses to acknowledge a laughing Makoto until he asks, “What’s this?”

Haruka hasn’t seen the long, double-sided drum Rin brought back before. Every year Miss Edmunds adds one or two new instruments to her already burgeoning collection. It’s never something one of them recognizes.

“She called it a  _talking_ drum,” Rin raises his head, absently rubbing his chin and wincing at the pain. “I told her I can’t play drums, but she said that’s okay?”

“No one knows how to play anything.” The tambourine rattles as Haruka sets it aside in favor of pulling out a fresh page and pencils. “It’s just noise.”

Makoto rattles his maracas. “When she says ‘make some noise’, she means it literally. They’re just for fun.”

Rin looks even more confused—what were music classes like in his previous school, Haruka wonders—but when Miss Edmunds inevitably shouts for them to make noise, he thumps at his drum as hard as he can, and seems to relish the burn in his red palms after.

But then Miss Edmunds picks up her guitar and announces they’re going to sing now, and Rin sinks into himself all over again.

“I’m not a very good singer,” he confesses to Makoto.

“You can’t be that bad,” Makoto reassures.

Rin isn’t that bad at singing.

He’s  _atrocious_.

At least he seems to know it, because he starts off quiet, letting Makoto drown him out as he realizes the other boy actually has a nice voice. Haruka is busy with his art—he doesn’t like singing—but everyone else is belting out the lyrics without giving one thought to tune, so eventually Rin’s confidence returns and he grows louder and louder until Haruka’s debating tearing up bits of his drawing paper to use as earplugs.

Granted, Rei is even  _worse_  than Rin, but at least he’s two benches over instead of one person away from Haruka. Somehow Makoto doesn’t seem to mind the wailing right next to his ear, rattling his maracas even harder and handing one to Rin so they can beat them against each side of Rin’s drum. Haruka’s fairly certain that between the two of them they can scare away a hungry bear.

“Haru, you should sing too!” Rin cries over the din. “You can’t be worse than me! Right, Makoto?”

_Rei is worse than you_ , Haruka almost says, but that sounds uncomfortably close to a compliment. Besides, Rin must really be rubbing off on Makoto, because the latter doesn’t even pause before piping up.

“Actually, I’ve never heard Haru-chan sing.” Makoto’s green eyes blink at him innocently. “So I don’t really know.”

“Oh?” Rin smile is full of sharp teeth. “So you don’t sing because you’re that bad, huh?” His eyes turn sympathetic. “It’s okay, Haru, I understand.” His hand rises dramatically to his chest. “I used to be the same.”

There is.

_No_ way _._

That Haruka is going to let them goad him into this.

So he’s not entirely sure why’s he’s mumbling the stupid lyrics of the stupid song along with them two minutes later while Rin very unsubtly fistbumps Makoto under the desk.

* * *

“Miss Edmunds is so pretty,” Rin comments idly as they walk out of the school building at the end of the day. “Everyone’s always talking about Ama-chan. How come no one told me about  _her?_ ”

Makoto and Haruka glance at each other. Is Miss Edmunds pretty? It feels a little weird to attach the word ‘pretty’ to her, and the little wrinkle between Makoto’s brows indicates that he agrees. Miss Edmunds has been their music teacher since they were, what, five years old? Shouldn’t they have noticed if she was pretty?

Miss Edmunds is just… Miss Edmunds. She’s special, so she makes Fridays special.

“…Is she?” Makoto sounds unsure; Rin laughs.

“Well, yeah! Have you seen her eyes?” he tilts his head to peer at Haruka. “They’re a lot like Haru’s, and they do this light up thingy when she smiles. I dunno.” Shrugging, Rin hops ahead. “I just think she’s very beautiful.”

Well, Haruka supposes Miss Edmunds does have blue eyes  _similar_  to his, but he rarely smiles, and he’s pretty sure his eyes don’t light up when he does. If there’s anyone Miss Edmunds’ eyes should be compared to, he thinks, it should be Rin.

“Hey Haru,” Rin says as he makes to board the bus. “I got a favor to ask.”

Haruka’s inclined to say ‘no’ just to see Rin pout, but he raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Can you make sure Gou heads to the house when you get home? I’m not asking you to walk her to the door or anything, just make sure she’s getting in? I— _oof!_ ”

The Tachibana twins and Gou seem to have been racing to them; Gou reaches Rin first, throwing him to the ground in a massive tackle. There’s a shuffle as she squeals about winning and Rin whines, then a pause while he ushers her up the steps and tells her to  _behave_.

“Are you going somewhere else?” Makoto asks when he’s finally done yelling at his sister. Rin shakes his head, grinning at them cheekily.

“Nah,” he jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna run back from now on.”

“You’re what.” And all the tolerance Haruka has been building up for this annoying new kid flies straight out the window.

He feels more than sees Makoto look at him cautiously, but Rin smiles wider.

“I miss  _running_. Since mom won’t let me run to school and Gou wouldn’t let me run home… the race is just a hundred meter sprint on tracks, and that’s great, I love sprinting, but I really miss cross country. I’m used to running a lot; falling out of practice here.” Hoisting his backpack higher on his shoulder, Rin secures the straps over his chest. “But Gou’s found friends to sit with now, so she’s cool with me running home.” He scratches his head. “Kinda beats sitting alone too, you know?”

“And your mom’s okay with you running back alone?” Makoto’s question is for Rin, but his eyes are on Haruka.

“Yeah!” Rin’s bouncing on his toes. Haruka knows that impatience, that need to start  _moving_  already. “We didn’t have buses in my school back in the city so I ran home on my own all the time. She knows I know the way, and I love it, so she just wants me to be careful.” He pivots on his heels. “So Haru, would you just keep an eye on Gou for me once Makoto gets off,  _please?_ ”

Haruka stares for a moment longer, and when he says, “Okay,” his voice sounds dull even to him.

The driver is yelling at them to get on already, so Makoto bids Rin goodbye and rushes up the steps, but when Haruka turns to do the same, Rin grabs his arm.

“Thanks,” he says. “You can have my mackerel tomorrow, too.”

Then he’s off, and Haruka looks after him until the driver honks and threatens to leave him there.

He wants to run home like Rin. He doesn’t want to run home  _with_  Rin. But if he doesn’t run home with Rin, he can’t run home at all.

And Gou is in the bus and he promised to get her home safely, so he climbs the steps and sits down.

“You two aren’t very different,” is Makoto’s only comment on the matter. Haruka’s eyes find the window, watching Rin wave to them as they leave him behind.

* * *

Grandma would probably let him run back if she knew he was with a friend, but Haruka doesn’t tell her and she doesn’t ask anything more about the boy who beats her grandson every now and then. Before he can stop it, Rin settles into his life as a constant presence, stalling the bus for him in the morning if he’s late, goading him in class and on the tracks, stealing bits of food from his lunch tray when he’s not looking and replacing what he took with pieces of mackerel. If the cafeteria isn’t serving mackerel that day Haruka tends to discover extra greens on his tray instead, and that’s how he finds out Rin doesn’t like vegetables.

Makoto finds it hilarious. He’s  _such_  an enabler.

“Will you join the field team in middle school, then?”

Which is pretty much the only reason Haruka doesn’t try to dissuade Rin when he turns on Makoto. Rin has been trying to convince him to run with them ever since Makoto accidentally let slip that he  _used_  to race, and Haruka followed up with the fact that he was actually pretty fast. It took Rin a few days to realize Makoto doesn’t enjoy racing the way he does, but apparently  _hurdling_  is still his thing.

It’s his new mission to convince Makoto to resume it when he can.

“I don’t know,” Makoto laughs as Rin lays his head on the desk and peers up at him through his bangs. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

“That’s not good enough!” Rin protests, but eventually Makoto always manages to distract him from the topic, and the conversation never goes much further from there.

Nothing is good enough for Rin unless it’s definite. That they don’t have their summer breaks fully planned out yet is astonishing to him, even though it’s barely been a month since school started. Rin is apparently going to run a ton and try to find work, and that goal is not at all impeded by the fact that he’s too young to get an actual job. Haruka plans to run a lot too, and Makoto thinks his family might go down to the coast for a couple weeks, but Rin groans at them.

“Lazing around is a plan too. How do you not have  _plans?_ ”

For the most part, Haruka gets used to this nuisance named Rin, but it’s not long before English classes become a problem. Haruka does the writing exercises, but when they’re reading Amakata-sensei doesn’t really notice if he draws instead. It’s the one class where he can get by without paying attention, and that’s the only reason he likes it.

Rin, on the other hand, adores English. He loves the stories and poems, his hand competing with Rei’s in shooting up to volunteer to read, and he wants to discuss every new thing they learned even after Amakata-sensei is gone. Makoto tries to keep up with him and for the most part he can, but Rin soon discovers that Haruka has no clue who Mr. Tumnus is.

“Haru.” Disapproving is not a tone Haruka’s used to hearing from Rin. Someone’s been taking notes from Makoto. “You need to know what we’re doing in class.”

Haruka frowns, “I know what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, you know we’re reading a  _book_ ,” Rin rolls his eyes, reaching around Makoto. Haruka instinctively ducks away from the smack aimed at the back of his head. “You’ll fall behind if you don’t start paying attention.”

Anyone who’s known Rin for longer than a day would recognize that look in his eyes.

“No,” Haruka says, but the damage is done. Rin’s new goal in life is to make sure Haruka keeps up in English.

His first brilliant idea comes around the following class. Haruka has decided that Rin might be able to bully him into singing in music, but he’s  _not_  allowed to take English from him, so when Amakata-sensei calls for someone to volunteer to read, he bends down to retrieve his sketchbook from his backpack.

A “Rin, what’re you—” from Makoto is his only warning before a finger jams into his side.

“Wha— _ow!_ ” The top of his head meets the underside of the desk with a sharp  _bang_  as his body jerks without permission, and when Haruka emerges with a hand gingerly rubbing the fast-swelling spot, the whole class is staring at him.

“Nanase wants to read today!” Rin’s voice sounds very loud in the silence.

That’s okay, because no one will find the body once Haruka’s done with him.

His murderous plans have to be put on hold, however, because Amakata-sensei is absolutely  _thrilled_  that he’s finally taking an interest in her class. He grudgingly stands to read out chapter three, which Makoto has quickly flipped his unopened book to, and out of the corner of his eyes he catches Rin gazing at him with the same wide-eyed look of wonder he gives their teacher when she reads. A lot of English words are still unfamiliar to him and he’s thrown by the sentence structure, but he fumbles through the pronunciation and Amakata-sensei helps him out when he gets stuck.

She doesn’t make him read for long—probably because he’s taking too long—thanking him at the end of the second page and asking him to sit down. Before Haruka can turn the full force of his glare on Rin, though, she announces that she has completed checking their last assignments.

“There’s one in particular that I want to share with all of you,” she says. “The student did a very good job of using the proper forms of verbs, and the writing displays a strong vocabulary. It’s also clear that a lot of heart went into it. Rin, would you like to come up here and read out your essay to the rest of the class?”

Rin is as surprised as everyone else. Rei is the star student of their class, and the days that he’s not the one being called upon to show off are rare and far in between.

“Um, sure,” he hops out of his seat once he realizes that Rei looks more disappointed in himself than angry at the new kid for stealing his spotlight, walking up to Amakata-sensei to accept the sheet of paper with his neat handwriting printed across it. He doesn’t clear his throat or shuffle his feet; he may not be used to standing in front of an audience largely focused on him, but he certainly knows how to handle it. His voice is as clear and ringing as it had been the first day he walked into the classroom. “ _In Tandem_.”

Haruka doesn’t have the first clue what ‘tandem’ means, but two sentences into the essay it becomes obvious that Rin has written about  _jumping out of a flying airplane_. He calls it  _skydiving_. He describes how it works, how it feels to trust your life to a stranger strapped to your back, the elation of freefall.

But then the parachute opens, and he’s no longer talking about falling. He says it’s like  _flying_ , and if Haruka closes his eyes he can  _see_  it. He can  _see_  long red hair whip away from a joyful face and into the instructor’s goggles, the black and red parachute blown out above them, Rin fumbling and losing his grip on the line.

Haruka keeps his eyes closed until Rin’s voice announces the moment his feet touched ground.

Makoto is whiter than the classroom walls when Rin trots back; Haruka lets out the breath he’s been holding as the redhead plops down beside them like he wasn’t just describing his own near-death experience. Their classmates watch him with awed eyes; most of them—including Haruka and Makoto—have never even been  _on_  an airplane, and Rin has  _jumped out_ of one.

Amakata-sensei has to break the silence.

“Your next assignment will be easy,” she announces as she shuffles through her papers to find the chalk. “I just want you to watch this program tonight at seven.” She writes the name of the show and the channel on the board. “It’s in English, so you won’t understand everything they’re saying, but that’s okay. Write down anything you don’t understand and bring it to the next class, and we’ll talk about it together.” Rei’s hand goes up. “Yes?”

“Are we going to be graded on this?”

“No, but I will subtract five points from your overall grade if I realize you haven’t watched it.” Amakata-sensei’s smile turns grim. “And don’t worry; I’ll know if you haven’t watched.”

They believe her.

Rin’s hand is up next, waiting for her nod. “What if we can’t watch the program?” he asks, and Amakata-sensei tilts her head.

“I’m sure your parents will let you if you tell them it’s for a school assignment, and this channel is available on every cable network in Iwatobi, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Rin’s face is perfectly neutral. “What if we don’t have cable?”

It’s unusual, but not unheard of, and it’s not really something Rin can get around.

“Then you don’t have to watch it,” Amakata-sensei says kindly. “I won’t take the five points off your grade.”

Rin puts his hand back down, but the moment their teacher turns back towards the blackboard Sousuke sniggers behind them.

“Who doesn’t have  _cable?_ ”

“Me,” Rin rolls his eyes. “Weren’t you listening?”

“You didn’t have to tell everyone you don’t have cable.” Haruka is still nettled that Rin volunteered him earlier, so he feels the need to point this out. It seems obvious enough to him. It’s as good as an ‘I told you so’. “You could’ve just come over to my place to watch.”

It’s only after the words are out of his mouth that he realizes he volunteered  _himself_  this time. Rin looks thoroughly floored, though, so maybe it still counts as a win?

“I… didn’t realize you’d let me.” Rin didn’t need permission when he barged into Haruka’s school life; it didn’t even occur to Haruka that he’d wait for an invitation to barge into his home life too. “Besides, I don’t care if they know. My mom works hard to support our family. I’m not ashamed that we can’t afford  _cable_. It’s just TV.”

“Wait, your  _mom_  supports your family?” Makoto jumps and Haruka grimaces; they hadn’t realized Sousuke was eavesdropping. Rin stills completely. “What, your dad some jobless drunkard? Bet he comes back from the bar at five in the morning and sleeps all day.”

Sousuke’s been trying to get a rise out of Rin from day one, teaming up with Janice on the tracks and on his own in class, but it only worked when Rin was still new and friendless. Since then he’s been brushing Sousuke off and hopping over his waiting feet; Haruka doesn’t expect anything different this time.

He’s completely wrong.

Makoto sees it coming, somehow reads the feral flash in Rin’s eyes the way he reads Haruka’s silences, and the few extra pounds he has from being an inch taller is all that stops Rin from taking them both over the desk when he lunges at Sousuke and Makoto grabs him around the waist.

“He’s  _not!_ ” Rin snarls over Makoto’s, “ _Calm down!_ ” He fights Makoto’s hold like a wild animal, and Haruka is forced to reach to help because not even Makoto is that strong. Rin’s bony wrists tremble in Haruka’s hands. “Shut  _up_  you’re  _wrong_  let me go  _I’m going to break his stupid ugly nose!_ ”

With an admission like that, it’s no wonder Amakata-sensei sends him to the principal’s office.

Anger rolls off Rin in waves as he leans down to gather his backpack. Haruka is glad he doesn’t look back at them when he stalks out, because Rin’s eyes are brighter than usual and Sousuke is grinning so big that Haruka kinda wants to punch him himself.

* * *

The news spreads like wildfire.

There can only be one reason Rin Matsuoka reacted the way he did, the kids decide.

Sousuke was right.

* * *

Rin reappears at lunch to jeers and creative insults about his lazy drunkard of a father. He seems more prepared this time, responding to the majority of them with poisonous glares and nothing more.

“Sorry about… before,” he tells Makoto, brows drawn together. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” Makoto isn’t angry, just worried. “Rin, are you okay?”

Rin tries for cheerful. “‘M fine. So are we racing or what, Haru?”

Haruka isn’t sure how to respond to a Rin whose smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s easy to shrug it off at the question, though; Rin is always bright-eyed and laughing after a good run, even if he comes in second. Running will take care of whatever’s eating at him, Haruka figures.

He’s wrong again.

Rin loses. Badly.

He doesn’t come in first, second, fourth or even sixth. He’s  _seventh_  in a heat of eight, eyes darker than ever as he walks away from cruel laughter and taunts about beginner’s luck wearing off and his previous wins being a fluke. Haruka could have won this race even if he hadn’t concentrated, and there’s something very, very wrong about that.

There’s no food missing from his tray today, no extra vegetables on the side when he turns back from digging into his backpack for his crayons. Most of Rin’s lunch ends up in the compost bin, but he chugs the milk.

When Gou finds them, she cries into Rin’s chest and doesn’t complain about his sweaty shirt.

“They’re saying mean things about dad,” she whimpers, Rin stroking her hair as Ran and Ren crowd against Makoto and Haruka, uneasy but not wanting to leave their friend. “Why are they making things up?”

“I’m sorry.” They words come so easily that Haruka suspects they’re not sincere; Rin’s way of apologizing is  _different_ , he’s learned. And if he knows this, Gou knows it better. “They’re just a bunch of dicks. They’ll stop soon. You have to ignore them until then, okay?”

Gou preens under the petting and kind words, her crying ceasing surprisingly fast, and by the time she leaves after a vicious tickle fight, her cheeks are flushed with laughter and Rin doesn’t look quite as frigid anymore. Haruka can’t help but be impressed, because she looks  _pleased_  with herself and she has every right to be.

Smart girl, that Gou Matsuoka.

* * *

Which is why Haruka finds her after the final bell rings and they’ve all climbed into the bus.

“I need you to do something,” he says. Gou blinks up at him curiously. “When you get off, stop at my house and tell my grandmother I’m going to be late. Tell her I’m running back with your brother.”

“You’re going to run, Haru-chan?” Makoto is decidedly surprised, and so are the twins, probably because they’ve never heard him say this many words in one go before. But Gou only watches him with eyes that are just like Rin’s but twice as sharp, and Haruka has never seen Rin smile with so much sincerity but so little expression.

“I will,” she says, and there’s no point in telling her that he just wants to run, because it’s not really true and somehow it feels like she already knows.

She’s  _nine_ , for heaven’s sake.

Haruka firmly looks away from her amusement to give Makoto a nod, then has to get out altogether because something is starting to click behind Makoto’s confusion, and he doesn’t want to be here when it does come together for him. He goes to find Rin instead, sitting on the ground a few feet from the road and studiously ignoring everyone passing by. He usually waits for the bus to leave first, so Haruka leans on the railing next to him and doesn’t watch him knot the laces on his battered sneakers.

Those things will last another two months, if he’s lucky. Rin needs new shoes.

“Haru?” Haruka doesn’t bother acknowledging him. “The bus is leaving.”

_State the obvious, why don’t you._  Rin is already used to his flat stares, and ignores it as he stands to dust off his butt. His movements have been slow and deliberate all day, gaze oscillating between dull and angry, but now there’s honest curiosity in his eyes.

“Is someone coming to pick you up?”

He’s  _nothing_  like his sister.

This whole being wrong about stuff gets old fast, Haruka decides.

“I’m running,” he finally articulates.

Rin looks at him like he’s speaking a different language. “With me?”

Haruka is  _so_  done with this conversation. Rin better follow, because he’s not waiting.

“Hey, wait up! Haru!” And he’s not turning around. There’s a short huff of laughter behind him, then Rin is suddenly matching him step for step, bumping their shoulders together in a way Makoto has never dared and Sousuke only tried once, to knock him off the tracks. But Rin isn’t trying to push him down, he’s being  _friendly_ , and that’s so  _weird_  that Haruka tries to put some distance between them.

Unsuccessfully.

“So we already know you’re good at sprints, Haru,” Rin says, jogging a circle around him. “But are you as good at cross-country?”

Haruka would have something to say about the elbow that finds his ribs before the other boy dashes ahead, but Rin’s smile is blinding when he turns around to make sure Haruka’s keeping up—the implication that he can’t is mildly offensive—so Haruka just hoists his backpack higher on his shoulders and keeps running, because really, this time he can’t even blame Makoto.


End file.
